


Five Times Victor Messed Up the Proposal + The One Time He Still Did

by lucycamui



Series: The Victuuri Humor & Fluff Collection [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Comedy, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10040312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucycamui/pseuds/lucycamui
Summary: In which Victor plans all the perfect proposals to his beloved Yuuri, but can never seem to carry them out exactly right.This time, Victor would be the one to surprise Yuuri, by taking Yuuri’s hands in his (with a choir singing in the background, of course) and asking if Yuuri would marry him. He had considered asking in all three of their shared languages. Maybe throw in some French as well, for the romance. And Spanish in honor of the location. Yuuri would not have to reply in all of them though. A simple yes would do perfectly. Whispered or shouted or nodded in silence. Victor didn’t care. Maybe Yuuri would just throw his arms around Victor and kiss him in a mess of happy tears. That would be fantastic too. However it went, it was going to be perfect—





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Translation/翻译：Five Times Victor Messed Up the Proposal + The One Time He Still Did/五次Victor搞砸了求婚，一次依旧如此](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10525215) by [sheridiotlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheridiotlock/pseuds/sheridiotlock)



> I've been wanting to do a 5+ fic and a proposal fic for ages, so.... why not both?!  
> I hope you enjoy~

“Whatever you do, _don’t_ do that whole ring in a glass of champagne thing.”

“Too cliché?” Victor deftly avoided running into a passerby too busy texting on their phone to notice where they were walking, checking his wristwatch as he quickly rounded a corner. If he had to admit, his focus had also not been the greatest since morning _and_ he was running late. What a disaster. So much for trying to plan out the perfect day. 

“Yes, and knowing the two of you, you’ll be too busy making heart-eyes at each other to pay proper attention, flirting and playing footsie under the table, and then you’ll say or do something that’ll fluster him and he’ll chug that champagne down and choke on the damn thing.”

“Wow, Chris, you always know exactly what to say to make me feel more confident in myself,” Victor replied sarcastically to the Swiss on the other end of the call.

“Since when do _you_ need more confidence, Mr. _Nikiforov_?” 

“Since I started thinking that I don’t want to be just Mr. _Nikiforov_ anymore.” They actually had not talked about the last name issue, but Victor was sure they would. It did not really matter to him what they decided. Although Victor Nikiforov-Katsuki did have a really nice ring to it. Or the other way around. Or even just Victor Katsuki. Anything was good. Everything was good.

“Ugh, you two kill me with your cuteness. You’ll be fine. You’re practically engaged already, I don’t even know what you’re worried about.”

“I want to do it properly. He deserves a real proposal.” Too often recently, Victor had caught himself wanting to refer to Yuuri as his fiancé in conversation, only to stop himself because it was never something they had explicitly agreed to and, despite everything, he did not want to be a fool for assuming. And just asking Yuuri over breakfast one casual morning, _Hey darling, we’re engaged, right?_ was not the way he wanted to go.

Yuuri deserved a proper proposal. With over-the-top declarations of love that Victor had scribbled onto a receipt in the inside pocket of his jacket (just in case), with a classic setting (and while Victor loved surprises, Yuuri preferred things more traditional), with that big movie _Yes!!!_ and an actual sweet story he could tell when people asked (instead of a _oh, it was kind of a good luck charm accidentally turned engagement_ type thing they had going now). 

And Victor wanted to confidently be able to refer to Yuuri as his _fiancé_ , in his head and aloud to anyone within earshot. Then, preferably sooner than later, as his _husband_. Just thinking about that prospect made Victor’s heart and smile swell impossibly. 

Victor slowed his pace when he reached the front of the restaurant, eyes flickering to the Rolex on his left wrist again. He was only ten minutes late… Not ideal, but not awful, he could recover. And Yuuri had replied to his apologetic text with an understanding heart emoticon. “Okay, I’m here. Checklist me.”

“Flowers?”

“Check.” A dozen scarlet roses. Victor wondered if it was possible to go for a million, but Chris had assured him that was only possible in outdated Russian love songs. He checked that his short run from where the taxi dropped him off (because he had been too impatient to wait for the traffic light to turn green) had not jostled them too badly. 

“You’ve told the owner your plan already?”

“Absolutely.” He had made the arrangements a month in advance, then fretted about it not being early enough. 

“He’s there?”

Through the darkly-tinted glass of the restaurant windows, Victor could see Yuuri, seated alone at a table in the corner. His expression was soft as he rested his chin in his hand, absent-mindedly staring off into space, no doubt waiting for Victor who was _late_. Late for Yuuri, who looked _gorgeous_. Victor smiled, able to see that Yuuri wore a tailored suit that Victor had picked out for him just for this occasion, the dark color beautifully accenting his slicked-back black hair. 

A waiter approached Yuuri and Victor watched him respond, perfect lips turning up in a small and polite smile as he said something along with a short dismissive wave. How had Victor gotten this lucky? 

“Lover boy!” Chris’s voice tore him out of his smitten daze. “Is he there?”

“Yeah, he’s here, and _fuck_ Chris, he looks so _good_. Why does he look that good, I don’t know if I can talk straight around him like this.”

“Calm down, Romeo,” the Swiss chuckled warmly. “You remember what you’re going to say?”

Victor’s mouth was a little dry but he nodded. Then remembered that Chris could not see it. “Yes, I remember. Well, I remember _now_ , I have no idea if I’m going to remember anything when I actually go to ask.”

“I knew I should have tipped off Phichit and asked him to be there to record the whole thing.”

“Right, cause that would make it much less terrifying.” Victor laughed nervously, throwing half a smile at the restaurant host who held the door open for Victor when he finally walked in.

“Stop worrying so much. Also, how do you look?”

Victor echoed the question to the host, who held up two thumbs and Victor decided to accept the gesture at face value. He knew he had looked fine when he had originally headed out to meet Yuuri, _insisting_ they meet at the restaurant instead of going together like they normally would, although he had not clarified why and was relieved when Yuuri did not question it. “I’ve been told I look good.”

“You always look good, it was a dumb question anyway, but you told me not to deviate from the list.”

His heart was running a marathon inside his chest. “Chris, what if he says no?”

There was a pause and an exasperated sigh. “…I’m hanging up now.”

“No, come on! Fine, fine, just… Is that it?” Victor wanted to make sure everything was right for this. He had picked out the best restaurant in the city, ate there ten times to make sure the food was consistently up to his standards, selected what was supposed to be the least busiest day of the week according to the owner so Yuuri would not feel flustered by having so many witnesses, picked out the table with the best placement, ensured there would be soft piano and violin duets playing in the background throughout the evening, found the most expensive florist, and guaranteed that both he and Yuuri would show up looking their best. 

“Yes, that’s it. You’ve got the rings, so hang up and go propose.”

Victor froze. 

No.

Not possible. 

_Fuck._

Victor almost threw the flowers at the host, quickly patting down his suit pockets. Not in his slacks, not in the front pockets nor in the inner folds of his jacket. _No, no, no, no, no._

“Victor?”

“…I don’t have the rings.” 

Chris laughed. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not joking, I forgot to pick them up. I still have the ticket…” Victor pulled it out of his breast pocket. It was the receipt on which he had written his proposal speech notes. He was supposed to pick them up right after the florist, having borrowed Yuuri’s matching golden band that morning under the guise of getting them cleaned… which was true, he did have them cleaned, so that they would be as brilliant as new when he slid it back on Yuuri’s finger, like at a _proper_ proposal. 

“No chance of doing it without them?”

“What would even be the point?” He wanted to hold Yuuri’s hand in his, play with the band around his finger, having absolutely no doubt that it was an engagement ring, and that when they took a taxi home that night, Victor would be buzzed and giddy sitting beside his _fiancé_.

“Well, what are you going to do then? You can send one of the restaurant staff out to get them for you?” Chris suggested.

“Too late, the shop will be closed by the time they get there…” Victor sighed, then rolled his shoulders and straightened his defeated posture. “Well, it’s still the anniversary of our first date, so I’ll pass it off as that.”

“You’re not going to do it? At all?”

“No, it has to be perfect!” Yuuri deserved perfect. Yuuri deserved the world. 

“You’re hopeless. And an idiot.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I guess have a nice date with your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, right. _Boyfriend._ ” He ended the call after a weak thanks to Chris, and finally stepped into the main part of the restaurant, catching Yuuri’s attention with a gentle call of his name and a wave. 

Yuuri’s perfect brown eyes lit up and he smiled brilliantly, waving back. Victor’s heart flipped in his chest, and then he rushed over to apologize, handing the bouquet of flowers to his _boyfriend._

He was really starting to hate that word.

~~~~~~~

Honestly, Victor did not know what he had been thinking the first time around.

A restaurant proposal, however classic, was not good enough. He was grateful that it did not work out—that sort of thing was a great anniversary or Valentine’s date but it was not worthy of a _proposal_. Especially not worthy of a proposal to Yuuri. 

A good proposal was done at someplace significant, which held meaning for them both, a place that would fill Yuuri’s heart from the moment they arrived, and that they could both hold precious for the rest of their lives, could visit throughout the years and never tire of. How depressing would it be to one day find out through a Facebook article or something of the like that the place where they had gotten engaged went out of business or moved or been bought and turned into a McDonald’s. Victor felt sick at the thought.

They had a few days off between competitions and training, and Victor had the perfect plan, even if it involved making Yuuri pout when Victor dragged him out of bed early in the morning and told him to go find his passport. 

There were a lot of places that Victor regarded dearly in his memories when it came to Yuuri, but there was one that topped the list. A place of beauty, history, and romance, that would certainly outlive them by centuries over. Where they had had their original “proposal.” Victor wanted to turn it into a real one. Recreate their day in Barcelona before the Grand Prix, concluding with them inside La Sagrada Familia… 

Only this time, Victor would be the one to surprise Yuuri, by taking Yuuri’s hands in his (with a choir singing in the background, of course) and asking if Yuuri would marry him. He had considered asking in all three of their shared languages. Maybe throw in some French as well, for the romance. And Spanish in honor of the location. Yuuri would not have to reply in all of them though. A simple yes would do perfectly. Whispered or shouted or nodded in silence. Victor didn’t care. Maybe Yuuri would just throw his arms around Victor and kiss him in a mess of happy tears. That would be fantastic too. However it went, it was going to be perfect—

“Delayed?!” Victor glared at the announcement screen in the airport lounge, which delightfully flashed the notification that their flight was being put off by three hours. “What does it mean, _delayed_?!”

“I think it means what it normally means,” Yuuri muttered back from the armchair next to Victor’s. “That the plane is leaving later than originally scheduled.”

The layer of amusement in Yuuri’s soft voice could not be clearer.

“You’re being awfully snarky for someone who has to be stuck waiting as well,” Victor pointed out, glancing back at his dark-haired partner. 

A smile was toying at the corners of Yuuri’s lips. “You’re really cute when you’re irritated.”

Fondness washed through Victor at the flirty words and he smiled back, suddenly not as devastated. Three hours was not so bad. It did not _really_ disrupt much of his plan and it was better for things to go slightly wrong now rather than later. 

“I’m going to go find out why it’s delayed,” Victor said, standing up. They had already been waiting for over an hour, with Victor _insisting_ they get to the airport early, just in case. 

“Mmm, kay. Can you grab me a drink while you’re up then?” Yuuri yawned cutely into his shoulder and Victor had to use a lot of effort to resist the urge to kiss him.

Three hours was fine, he told himself as he left the lounge. He could do three hours of waiting for some reportedly unruly weather to die down. Especially when he returned and found Yuuri sitting on a vacated love seat, legs curled under himself, smiling and patting the spot beside him in invitation. 

Victor handed him a Starbucks cup of hot black tea with steamed milk, and hummed in contentment when Yuuri leaned against him as they shared a slice of lemon loaf cake, killing the time by scrolling through feeds on their phones, occasionally showing each other a cute photo or video. They laughed together over a gossip article Victor found which asserted that he had broken up with Yuuri in a ‘public row’ at a dog park (which had actually been more of a mock argument over which of them Makkachin liked better—because the poodle took habit to bringing tennis balls to Yuuri instead of Victor… Although, if Yuuri did correctly remember, at one point Victor had declared, _“Fine then, keep the dog, I don’t need either of you anyway!”_ before tackling them both to the ground in an attempt to tickle an apology out of Yuuri).

Three hours waiting in an airport lounge was normally hell. Three hours waiting in an airport lounge with Yuuri’s head resting on his shoulder—very manageable. Especially since Yuuri dozed off near the end, muttering something about the beach probably being too chilly for the season. As far as Victor had told him, they were headed to the Spanish coast for a couple days of sun and well-earned relaxation.

As the minutes ticked closer to the rescheduled departure, Victor slipped out from under Yuuri, draping his jacket over the Japanese man’s resting frame. He threw away the empty drink cups and crumpled napkins, then wandered back out to the gate just in time for one of the airline staff to get on the intercom to announce the flight was ready to—

“We regret to inform all passengers that due to the worsening weather conditions, all flights have been grounded until further notice.”

Victor did not listen to the rest of the announcement because he was already at the counter, pleading and bribing and being informed that _yes, all flights meant all flights_ and _it was difficult to say but replacement flights would probably not be in operation until the following day._

After half an hour of prayer and confusion, he reluctantly made his way back to the lounge to inform Yuuri of the bad news, who only shrugged his shoulders as he stood. “The tickets were refundable, right?”

“Yeah…” That wasn’t the point.

“And we still technically have three days of vacation?”

“Yeah…” 

“Let’s head home then.” Yuuri slung his backpack over one of his shoulders. “Call Georgi and tell him we don’t need a dog sitter anymore.”

“You don’t want to go somewhere else?” Victor questioned.

Yuuri’s dark eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief and he shook his head. “I was thinking I’d rather spend the whole three days in bed with you and no place is better for that than home.”

Victor ran a hand over the back of his neck, ruffling his hair as he considered the offer. “You really want to spend the whole time sleeping?”

As Yuuri walked past Victor, headed toward the door of the lounge, he slid his hand down the center of the Russian’s chest and then tugged at his belt. “I said in bed, Vitya, I didn’t say sleeping.” Yuuri was out the door before Victor could process the wink Yuuri threw at him as he left. 

The sound of the lounge door sliding shut brought him back to his senses and Victor grabbed his own bag, rushing after the other, thinking that Yuuri’s proposal sounded just as good at that moment (if not better).

~~~~~~~

They barely had the strength to drag themselves home after a long, long day at the rink spent perfecting their routines as the season leading into the Grand Prix got underway. 

Dinner was quiet, but Yuuri’s foot still rested against Victor’s ankle underneath the table. Victor washed the dishes as Yuuri drew a hot bath, then proceeded to pull Victor into it with him, letting them soak their sore muscles together.

Wordlessly, Victor dotted kisses along Yuuri’s shoulder blades, then hummed in bliss when Yuuri turned and washed his hair for him. How had he ever lived without the wonder that was Yuuri in his life? They toweled each other dry and Victor pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s lips as the younger skater headed for the bed while Victor took Makkachin for a quick walk outside. 

The chill of the night left Victor wanting for the warmth of Yuuri’s skin on his, but he received more than he bargained for when he opened the door to the bedroom to be met with the sight of his Yuuri still entirely nude, legs spread as he moaned Victor’s name, stretching himself with his own fingers. 

Victor’s clothes had never hit the floor quicker, mouth traveling up the inside of Yuuri’s thighs, tongue joining Yuuri’s fingers. He drank in all the delightful noises which escaped from Yuuri, until the Japanese man flipped them over, his touches no longer hesitant as they once had been. He skillfully stroked at Victor’s cock and coated it with lubricant before sinking himself down onto it completely, gasping into the crook of Victor’s neck. 

Victor’s nails left crescents on Yuuri’s hips as Yuuri rode them both to completion before collapsing onto Victor, exhausted from the length of the day and glowing from the slow release. Victor held Yuuri close, dusting kisses over the expanse of his throat and along every millimeter of his collarbone, feeling lost in lingering pleasure and love. 

Yuuri settled his right hand over Victor’s heart, fingers of the left curled loosely over Victor’s shoulder as he rested on top of Victor, nuzzling into the crook of the Russian’s neck with affection. They had the rink booked for practice the following day too, but Victor thought a late start might be acceptable after the extra time they had spent that day performing the routines and coaching each other through jumps and sequences. 

The feeling of Yuuri’s lips murmuring a soft declaration of love against his skin sent shivers down Victor’s spine and a warmth pooling in his abdomen and chest, clutching at them, and then the words were spilling from Victor, telling Yuuri how he would spend eternity publically or privately falling onto the ice if it meant that Yuuri’s hand would be there in offer to help him up, that he wanted to spend every night falling into dreams exchanging _I love you’s_ and waking up every morning with Yuuri in his arms, that Yuuri had granted him the privilege and honor of being his partner, his coach, his lover and would he please also grant Victor the privilege of being his husband. 

Only Yuuri did not answer, his breaths rolling deep and steady over Victor’s skin, calm and unaware. Victor would have laughed at himself, but bit his lip instead even as he smiled, pulling the blankets over them both. He let Yuuri sleep against him, kissing at black hair before closing his eyes as well, his proposal completely unheard.

~~~~~~~

Yuuri dominated at Four Continents. 

As soon as the music to his free skate faded, the arena burst into applause. Seeing the score was only a formality; it was clear to anyone from the flawless program that no other skater would even be close to overcoming Yuuri. 

It was all Victor could do to not launch himself across the ice at Yuuri once again, resisting only because he knew if he did, he would end up asking Yuuri right there and then, and he did not want Yuuri to think for a single second the gesture was thoughtless or spontaneously influenced under the promise of gold. He wanted Yuuri to know it was something carefully planned and executed, carried out with every heartfelt intention. 

Their lives together revolved around the ice. Yuuri’s initial infatuation with him, their first meeting, the build of their relationship, Yuuri’s declaration of the reason behind his theme in their first year as student and coach on a national broadcast, the kiss at the Cup of China, the start of their now traditional pair-skate at exhibitions. The ice had brought them together, taught them love, been their struggle, and it would undoubtedly remain a great part of their lives long after they retired from competitions. It only felt appropriate to honor its role.

Victor had already sent a text to their friends back in St. Petersburg, with a winking emoticon and a note telling them to be sure not to miss the livestream of their exhibition. When Victor asked Phichit if he planned to record their pair skate, Phichit held a hand to his chest and said he was hurt that Victor thought for even a second that he would not. Victor told him to get a good spot. 

Instead of ending their routine with Yuuri tightly embraced by Victor’s arms, Victor planned to conclude the skate by getting down on one knee, the chill of the ice be damned. So much of their life together was owed to it, so many of their significant moments had happened on it, a proposal on ice would encompass all of that. 

“Hey, Victor, get out here!”

Victor glanced up, seeing Yuuri wave to him from the hall doorway which lead out toward the rink. 

“Hurry up, you don’t want to miss this!” Yuuri’s excitement drew Victor up easily and he followed an unnaturally quick-paced Yuuri out to the stands, registering the upbeat music playing through the speakers. The exhibition skate that was on the program for JJ was certainly not the one being performed by the Canadian now.

“I think he’s going to propose!” Yuuri laughed, his eyes sparkling as he watched JJ skate a routine to lyrics singing _“hey baby, I think I wanna marry you.”_ JJ was joined in by a flash mob of sorts by a few of their fellow competitors, all of the junior division skaters, and several of the pair and ice dancing couples, all skating in sync to a clearly well-rehearsed routine. 

There was a spot light shining on Isabella as she rushed to the edge to the rink, her face alight as the music faded and one of the junior skaters handed JJ a microphone. “Isabella, my princess!” The Canadian exclaimed, holding a fist to his heart. “I may not have brought you gold this time, but it seems this king can no longer hold his throne on his own. So, will you please come rule by my side forever as my queen? Isabella, will you be my wife?”

Isabella was hastily tying the laces on a pair of skates and as soon as she pulled them snug, she jumped onto the ice, skating straight into JJ’s arms, yelling _yes!_ repeatedly, and the arena erupted in yells and applause as JJ slid a visibly large diamond onto her left hand. 

Victor swore.

“Awww, don’t you think that’s cute?” Yuuri smiled, his fingers brushing against Victor’s hand as they stood side by side, watching the happy couple kiss as the flash mob threw rose petals over them.

“Sure. Cute,” Victor muttered bitterly. “Is that the kind of thing you want?”

“No!” Yuuri shook his head, laughing again. “That’s cute for them… I’d be terrified! I hope you weren’t thinking of something like that.” He teasingly nudged at Victor’s side and then hurried down to the rink, to join in the shouts of congratulations. 

Victor certainly wasn’t thinking of something like that anymore.

~~~~~~~

Victor was at the point of kicking the sand in frustration. Or pulling a Yurio and chucking his phone into the ocean. Because this was the _third goddamn time._

“Viiiiiiiiictor, I don’t know what you’re doing but you should be over here with us!”

Victor wanted to be _over there_ with _them_. “Gimme a minute, darling!” Glancing down at his phone for the hundredth time, Victor carefully dragged the heel his foot through the sand, copying down the last stroke displayed on the smartphone screen. With a step back, he double-checked and triple-checked the symbols, then glared at the group of kids building sand castles off to the side.

“Don’t. Touch. It.” He hissed at them, putting on his best intimidation face, because they were currently scraping their structures together over his second attempt, after having trampled through the first. And if they screwed up this one as well, Yuuri would have no fiancé because said fiancé would be in jail for attempted murder. Figuratively speaking, of course.

“Victor, watch out!”

Yuuri’s laugh rang out loud and melodic, and the next second Victor was knocked off his feet and into the sand by a large poodle jumping at his side. “Makka…” Victor almost cried as the poodle happily pranced around, lapping at his owner’s face and utterly destroying the lettering Victor had finished writing in the sand (although Victor’s ass now imprinted between the two main symbols would not have done well for the sweet gesture he had been going for). 

Brushing the sand off the back of his board shorts as he stood, Victor quickly erased the rest of the characters before Yuuri jogged over. The Japanese skater’s smile was wide across his face, droplets of sea water glistening in his hair and on his bare chest and, _fuck_ , Victor was so in love with the sight. 

“Come on, you were the one who said you wanted us to spend the day out here together,” Yuuri beckoned, lacing his fingers through Victor’s and pulling the Russian away from where they had laid out their beach towels. The weather had warmed and the sun was bright and brilliant, making the rolling waves sparkle, reminding Victor of the day the three of them had spent at the beach near Hasetsu during their first year together. 

“I thought I saw one of those little crabs?” Victor tried, realizing that he should have probably thought of a good cover story prior to embarking on his goal of proposing to Yuuri on the beach with the words written out in the sand in Japanese, with Makkachin as their witness. 

The poodle shook off his wet fur and sprayed Victor with a fine mist of cool sea water. Yuuri giggled and pulled on Victor’s hand again. “Forget the crabs and get in the water for a bit, since this was your idea.”

“Give me like one second,” Victor protested, barely resisting as Yuuri tugged him closer to the waterline. “I need to check one thing and I’m there.”

“You’d better be, or I’m feeding your share of the watermelon to Makka at lunch,” Yuuri threatened, then whistled for Makkachin. He and the poodle splashed back into the shallows, Yuuri yelping when Makkachin nearly bowled him over into the water. Victor smiled, loving how much more energetic his dog was around Yuuri and knowing that Makkachin would pass out exhausted in the back of the car on their way home, snoring cutely like he always did. 

Determination flaring through him, Victor quickly redrew the message, the characters now committed to memory. He tossed his phone over onto their towels, then ran into the water, catching Yuuri around the waist and lifting him up to spin them around once in imitation of their pair-skates, delighted by the mix of a surprised exclamation and laughter which spilled from Yuuri’s lips. 

“Are you going to put me down?” Yuuri asked when Victor did not set him back, but the younger skater hooked his legs above Victor’s hips, his arms draping over Victor’s shoulders as he gazed down at the Russian.

“Never,” Victor replied and tipped his face up to kiss lightly at Yuuri’s lips, not protesting at all when Yuuri deepened it for all too brief a moment. “I’ll carry you forever.”

“Until your back gives out?” Yuuri teased, touching his temple to Victor’s.

“Ouch, you wound me,” Victor replied, tracing fondly at the line of Yuuri’s swimming trunks along his back. “Are you calling me old?”

“Your hair _is_ silver.” Yuuri’s fingers delved into the strands, fingertips massaging at Victor’s scalp and practically making him melt. 

“All right, that’s it, I’m throwing you in,” Victor answered and carried Yuuri deeper into the cool water, laughing when Yuuri yelped in protest and clung on tighter. 

Victor gazed up as Yuuri pleaded, his pretty lips glistening as they formed the words, tiny diamond-like droplets of water clinging to his dark eyelashes and reflecting the sun, and Victor’s heart felt ready to burst, unable to wait anymore. “Yuuri…” The name came out breathless and Yuuri instantly quieted, fingers still playing with the strands of hair at the nape of Victor’s neck as he smiled back, waiting. “Yuuri, my love, will y—”

A wave crashed into them, knocking them down over into the cold water. Victor dropped Yuuri and came up sputtering salt water. Yuuri was laughing as Makkachin barked at them and doggy-paddled over to check on his owners, but the moment was gone.

On the shore, the same wave completely washed away the「結婚して下さい」Victor had apparently written under the tide line.

~~~~~~~

The summer in southern Japan was almost unbearably humid. However, the night breeze which billowed along the coast made it pleasant enough and Victor really enjoyed how Yuuri left his yukata tied a little looser due to the warmth. 

Seeing Yuuri in traditional wear never failed to make Victor’s heart flutter, which was why he had immediately cleared their schedule for a few days when Yuuri mused about wishing they could visit his hometown for the annual mid-July fireworks festival. They had wanted to come back during the sakura season, but had been too busy and flowers never respected strict scheduling restrictions anyway. 

The cotton of the yukata Hiroko had presented Victor with was pleasant against his skin, and Victor liked how Yuuri’s gaze flickered to him a few times every minute, blush dusting his cheeks as he obviously admired the way it looked on Victor. 

Victor did not tease him for it, enjoying too much the fact that Yuuri’s hand lingered in his as they walked along the bridge leading up to Hasetsu Castle. The fireworks started promptly on schedule, flying high and bursting bright and loud against the dark sky, but Yuuri kept tugging Victor along, past the crowds lining the bridge and nearby streets. 

Instead, he brought Victor up the stone steps leading up to the castle, to the small clearing at its base where they used to often exercise or relax together when Yuuri first trained under Victor. They sat on the bench together, fingers laced, craning their necks up to watch the colors sparkle across the sky above the castle, casting tinted hues across its white walls and black roof tiles. 

“Victor…”

The night was far from quiet, filled with the explosions of the fireworks and the insistent buzzing of the cicadas in the trees above them. Yet Yuuri’s soft voice beside him was the only sound that mattered. “Hmmm?”

Victor watched flowers of purple and red bloom and wilt in the sky, then gold fairy dust shimmer and fade. Yuuri had once mentioned that one of the few things he missed about Japan were the summer fireworks, before whispering shyly that he would have probably have enjoyed them all the more if Victor was beside him.

“You know you didn’t have to rearrange everything we had scheduled just to come here with me…”

“I did though.” Victor would clear every schedule of everything if it meant being able to present Yuuri with something he wanted. 

“Thank you.”

Victor glanced over at the Japanese man sitting beside him, catching Yuuri’s beautiful smile, watching the colors in the sky reflect in the beautiful brown of Yuuri’s eyes. “Anything for you, my love.” He meant it, and sometimes it scared him a little just how much he meant it, yet he clung to the feeling all the same. He’d stop the world for Yuuri.

“I want to watch the fireworks with you like this every summer,” Yuuri muttered softly and Victor felt his breath seize in his throat.

“Me too, darling.”

Even in the darkness of the night illuminated only by the lights shimmering across the sky, Victor could see how Yuuri’s cheeks burned pink as he reached over to grab Victor’s other hand, holding both of them firmly in his own. Yuuri took in a deep breath and then leaned in, tipping their temples together and he teased a whisper of a kiss across Victor’s lips as he spoke.

“Victor… most of my life, I’ve wanted nothing more than the chance to meet you, to be near you… And now that I’ve had that, I don’t think it’s enough… Maybe it’s selfish, but I want to have you all to myself, forever. I want to skate with you until we can’t skate anymore, watch you burn dinners but make the most amazing breakfasts. I want to get stuck in airports with you, seduce you with my drunken dance moves, and try to find the missing sock in the laundry together with you. I want to have a hundred dogs with you and spend every day together. I want to stay close to you and never let you go…”

Victor could not remember how to breath, how to think, how to make his heart beat. All he could do was drown in Yuuri’s words, in the sweetness of his smile and the quiver in his voice, in the glistening building in his eyes. 

“I-… I already think of you as my fiancé, but I still wanted to ask you properly, because I didn’t the first time…” Yuuri’s fingertips brushed over the golden band on Victor’s hand, which had been a comfortable presence ever since Yuuri had first taken off Victor’s glove in Spain so he could slide it on. “So… I can’t believe I’m actually saying this but… Victor Nikiforov, will you—”

“Yes.” 

Yuuri blinked at him, at the strength of Victor’s response, at the conviction in his voice. And then he laughed. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

Victor caught Yuuri’s laughter in his lips, kissing him hard before pulling back, shaking his head of the daze that it was _Yuuri_ asking _him_. “Right, right, I’m sorry. You-… you should continue. You should ask.”

“I can’t finish now, I was barely managing it the first time!” Yuuri protested, but his smile overtook his face. “Why did you have to mess it up?!”

The words sunk into Victor’s chest and he laughed deeper, pulling Yuuri into his lap, winding arms low around Yuuri’s waist, not caring about the heat of the summer night because all he wanted was the heat of Yuuri’s flushed skin near his. “Oh, darling, if only you knew,” he muttered against Yuuri’s lips and then pulled back, smiling wider than he ever had before. “I want all those things you said and more. So, Yuuri Katsuki, will you—“

“Yes.”

Yuuri threw his arms around Victor’s shoulders and Victor hugged his _fiancé_ tight, tasting the salt of their combined tears on their lips as they kissed again under the vivid colors of the Hasetsu fireworks, never needing to finish either proposal.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like, you can shout at me on my tumblr [@lucycamui](https://lucycamui.tumblr.com)
> 
> Otherwise, comments are lovely~♡


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